


The Only Fool Here (is me, for you)

by the_zesty_lemon



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura (Voltron) is So Done, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Bullying, F/M, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Hunk (Voltron) is a Good Friend, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Lance (Voltron), Pidge | Katie Holt is Savage, Pining Lance (Voltron), Pranks and Practical Jokes, Sassy Pidge | Katie Holt, Space Dad Shiro (Voltron), plance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 05:04:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16570184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_zesty_lemon/pseuds/the_zesty_lemon
Summary: Pidge starts a prank war with Lance.The results are less than hilarious.---Two-shot with some feels.





	1. April Fools

If anyone asked: it was all Pidge’s fault. 

At least… That’s the story Lance stuck with.

It started when the youngest Paladin finally found a way to synchronize doboshes, vargas and ticks and make them make sense against earthen time (give or take a small error of margin which was also calculated extensively). 

It was something that everyone on the team had been hoping for and dreading at the same time. 

“It’s… March twenty-fifth.” Pidge announced to the room. 

The air _whooshed_ out of Lance’s lungs in a deranged mix of utter _relief_ and utter _despair_ that left him lightheaded. Almost a whole year passed since they’d left earth. A part of him ached at the thought of losing an entire year with his family… but he was grateful it wasn’t more. 

The date had no meaning to the two Alteans on board, but they could tell by the suddenly somber atmosphere that this wasn’t good news. 

“March twenty-fifth,” Allura repeated tentatively, “is that a lot in earthling time?” 

“Almost a year.” Hunk sighed miserably, running a hand through his hair. 

“I’m… I’m going to go bake something.” The big guy’s shoulders slumped as he turned on his heel and headed towards the kitchen. 

Keith outwardly appeared the most unaffected by the news, his arms crossed over his chest and his face carefully stoic, but Lance could tell he was uncomfortable at the amount of time that slipped by. 

Shiro looked perturbed, for him it was closer to two years being away from earth counting the time he was captured by the Galra. 

And Pidge…She screwed her eyes shut for a moment and Lance imagined she was trying to forcibly will the homesickness away. When she reopened them her face was carefully blank, but he knew her better than that. 

Something in Lance shifted and he blurted the first thing he could think of:

“It’s almost April Fools Day!” 

Six heads swivelled towards him and Lance flushed under the confused stares of his teammates. Hunk’s foot hovered halfway out of the room, but he didn’t go any further.

“A fools day?” Coran stroked his moustache in thought. 

“April Fools Day.” Lance amended, “April is a month in earth time. 30 days.” He tacked on, but judging by the bewildered looks on Allura and Coran’s faces he was just making them even more confused. “It’s a day where people play pranks on each other.” 

Coran’s eyes lit up. 

“Pranks you say? Why my Grandfather, the one who built the Castle of Lions was quite the trickster! Tell me, what level of flames do you use when you’re pulling your pranks?” 

It was the Paladins’ turn to stare at the Alteans. 

“Um…not a lot? Most of the time the pranks are supposed to be harmless. Like putting blue dye in your sister’s body wash the morning she was supposed to get her college ID photo taken.” His heart ached at the mention of his sister (Veronica, who had been _so_ pissed at him for almost a month after). 

“That’s nothing!” Pidge interjected suddenly, “I put a bag of chocolate powder in the drain so when Matt showered it looked like the sewage backed up. You should have heard him scream.” The small twitch of her lips grew into a fond, reminiscent smile. 

“One year I post-it noted every inch of my brother Marco’s car right before he picked up his date.” Lance boasted, his chest swelling with pride at that one. 

“One time,” Pidge began in a deviously low tone that did something strange to his insides, “I put out a bowl with skittles _and_ M&Ms.” 

Lance blanched. 

“ _Together_ ?”

She nodded solemnly. 

“You’re a monster!” He gasped. 

“That’s what Matt said.” 

They stared at one another for a serious moment before bursting out laughing. 

Keith and Shiro chuckled, along with Allura and Coran (who Hunk suspected were only laughing because everyone else was). It was only Hunk who was unable to shake the feeling of dread from his gut because his gut was never wrong. Something about Pidge and Lance talking about pulling pranks on people… together… trying to outdo each other… 

“I’m just gonna go tinker around in the kitchen.” Hunk announced his exit, sneaking back towards the doorway with an anxious side eye at the Blue and Green Paladins. 

If Coran and Allura didn’t quite understand what April Fools Day was, Hunk had a sneaking suspicion they were about to get a crash course. 

…

Number Five issued the challenge the very next morning.

Lance opened the door to the kitchen before breakfast, wearing his plush robe and fuzzy lion slippers and was promptly greeted by a bucket of _ice-cold_ water over his head. He gasped as the cold water drenched him through, all the way down to his beloved fluffy blue lion slippers. 

For a long, long, _long_ , moment, Lance didn’t say anything. The only sound in the kitchen was the loud clang of the bucket hitting the floor. 

“Oops. How did that get there?” Pidge smirked, biting into on one of Hunk’s weirdly glasslike (but delicious) cookies. She smacked her lips deliberately, just to push his buttons when he didn’t say anything. 

“DID YOU JUST—“ 

“Yep.” Pidge chirped, popping the ‘p’. 

Lance took a deep, steadying breath. He looked like a coiled spring, ready to explode. 

“Oh it is _on_ !”

“Come at me bro.” Pidge smirked again.

Lance huffed, turned on the heel of his sopping wet lion slippers and stormed out of the kitchen. The squelch of his slippers faded down the hall and she grinned. 

It was good to see Lance so fired up. 

Pidge both regretted finding out how much time had passed in their absence from earth and didn’t. It was a relief to know, but she hated the melancholy that seeped into the ship. 

Lance, especially, was affected and she _hated_ it. 

He, out of all of the Paladins, was the one most susceptible to homesickness and she’d practically waved a big fat sign saying: _here’s how long it’s been since you’ve seen your family and they think your dead_ —right in his face. For the last day and a half the smile hadn’t reached his eyes and there was a weight on his shoulders. 

It made her heart ache.

For someone as _good_ as Lance, Pidge would do almost anything to get him back to his normally rambunctious, goofy self… like rigging a bucket of ice-cold water over a doorway. 

…

At breakfast, Shiro asked Lance why he was late (Lance had to run back to his room for a change of dry clothes) and Pidge snickered before she could catch herself. When Shiro gave her a bewildered look, she hastily turned it into a cough that fooled no one. 

Lance glared. 

…

 

_Pidge: 1 | Lance: 0_

 

…  
Lance, Hunk and Allura lounged on the couch in a lazy, post-dinner food goo coma when Pidge burst into the room. 

“ _You_ .” She growled murderously. 

Allura and Hunk both jumped, gulping nervously. They raised a hand and pointed confusedly towards themselves.

“Not you.” She brushed them aside impatiently, “ _you_ .” 

She came to a very deliberate halt in front of Lance. 

It was Lance’s turn to act with the same; maddening, nonchalant nature Pidge had oozed the previous morning. 

“What can I do for you Pidge?” Lance finally glanced up at her, feigning surprise. Her cheeks were flushed and her chest heaved—she’d probably run all the way from her workspace. His heart stuttered at her expression, but Lance forced himself to focus. 

“You—you moved all my stuff!” 

He frowned, glancing at Allura and Hunk as though bewildered by her accusation. 

“Oh! You mean that.” Lance beamed, acting as though he were just remembering something. “Yeah! I helped put some stuff away. Your workbench looked messy so I thought I’d help you out.” 

Allura and Hunk looked lost at the exchange going on in front of them, but wisely decided to stay out of it. 

Pidge scowled, her whiskey gaze burned with the promise of his untimely demise. She opened her mouth and then closed it with a snap. 

“This isn’t over McClain.” 

And then she was gone as quickly as she’d come.

“You cleaned Pidge’s work bench?” Hunk asked after the coast was clear, looking at Lance quizzically.

Lance nodded. 

“Just thought I’d lend a hand. I’m not only Loverboy Lance after all. Call me Good Guy McClain from now on.” 

Allura scoffed and settled back down onto the couch, but Hunk narrowed his eyes and looked a little more closely at his friend. 

“What?” Lance said defensively, settling back down onto the couch, “it’s true.” 

And it was true.

When Pidge was doing some routine maintenance to the lions, Lance snuck in to her workspace and did a little bit of “clean up”. 

He put all of Pidge’s tools away… on the highest shelves where he _knew_ she wouldn’t be able to reach. 

…

 

_Pidge: 1 | Lance: 1_

 

…

Pidge hacked the comm in Lance’s helmet the next day. It blared: “MMM WHATCHA SAY” every time he was shot by a drone in training. 

Lance laughed so hard he nearly vomited. 

She counted it as a win. 

…

 

_Pidge: 2 | Lance: 1_

 

…

Lance stole every alarm clock in the Castle of Lions and hid them in Pidge’s room to go off at varying intervals on the only day of the week they were permitted to sleep in. 

The entire castle was awoken by her scream of rage when she pummeled the alarm clocks into nothingness. 

…

_Pidge: 2 | Lance: 2_

_Lance: (-30HP courtesy of sleep deprived Pidgeon)._

…

It didn’t take long for the crossfire to bleed over to their teammates.

Coran walked in to a trap meant for Pidge and was accidentally glued to the green lion for three hours before anyone noticed. 

Keith emerged from the bathroom with bright pink skin. 

Hunk accidentally ate cookies with the Altean equivalent of toothpaste as faux icing and was _traumatized_ at the assault to his taste buds. 

It was Allura who finally put her foot down. She reached her wits end with these ‘earthling shenanigans’ when Lance tried to draft the mice onto his side, but it was Shiro who sat the two of them down for a stern talking to. 

“You are Paladins of Voltron. This kind of behavior is _unacceptable_ .” Shiro crossed his arms over his chest, using his best ‘ _I’m disappointed in you_ ’ voice.

“But Shiro,” Lance whined, “we’re tied! It’s four-four! We can’t stop now. April Fools Day isn’t even until tomorrow.” 

“Yeah! We promise we won’t get anyone in the crossfire again.” Pidge agreed wholeheartedly. 

Shiro frowned deeply, mulling it over. All his senses told him to put a stop to this craziness, but at that moment Lance and Pidge shamelessly turned their huge, hopeful gazes on him. 

The eldest Paladin made the fatal mistake of making eye contact.

_Dammit_ he was weak to puppy dog eyes. 

He let out a heavy sigh. 

“There will be some conditions.” 

Lance and Pidge nodded enthusiastically and Shiro chose to ignore the not-so-subtle fist-bump the two exchanged when they thought he wasn’t looking. 

“Number one: no more pranks until April Fools Day.” 

This was non-negotiable and he moved on, ignoring their objections.

“Number two: you only get to pull one more prank each.” Shiro silenced their immediate protests with a stern look. After a moment, Pidge and Lance nodded grudgingly. 

“Number three: if you catch anyone else in the crossfire, it means automatic disqualification and you’ll have some extra training with _me_ to answer to. Do we have an understanding?” It was said pleasantly enough, but the underlying ice in Shiro’s tone was unmistakable.

Pidge and Lance gulped. 

“Yes sir.” 

… 

Lance stared at the ceiling of his bedroom in growing frustration, unable to sleep. His thoughts had been flying in a thousand directions lately—but somehow they always seemed to circle back to one _particular_ person. 

After rolling over and checking the clock for the fifth time, he let out a groan and whipped the blankets off of him. 

Maybe a nighttime walk would help shake the restlessness out of his bones. 

The hallway lights were dimmed to the nighttime cycle setting, not even the castle mice stirred at this hour. By now everyone would have gone to bed… or at least, that’s what Lance thought until he reached the hallway by Pidge’s workroom. 

The light glaring from the doorway drew him in like a moth to a flame, his feet moved of their own accord. When Lance reached the doorway, it took him a moment to realize what he was seeing. 

Pidge perched precariously on her work chair much like a gargoyle looming on top of a building. She reached for the very top shelf, straining her short limbs as far as she could, but falling just short of her goal. 

He watched her make three feeble attempts before she gave up.

“Quiznak.” Pidge grumbled, letting out a frustrated whine.

“Need some help?” Lance offered with a sly grin, leaning against the frame of the doorway. 

She whirled around, almost tumbling off the chair. Her sharp gaze narrowed when she realized who it was.

“No thanks to you.” Pidge grumped, arms crossing over her chest. 

Lance chuckled and slipped into the room. He stopped when he was right beside Pidge, who glared at him as though his very being offended her. 

“Can’t reach them even with the chair, _minúsculo_ ?” The taunt leaves his mouth before he can think about what he’s saying and to whom. 

Pidge’s eye twitched. 

Lance knows Pidge doesn’t speak Spanish. 

But Lance knows that it isn’t hard to connect the dots when he called her such a similar word to miniscule. She’s is a smart cookie after all.

Did he _have_ a death wish? 

He could see the speech Allura would give at his funeral now: _Lance McClain, Paladin of Voltron, defender of the universe, fought bravely against the Galra Empire only to be taken out by an enraged 4’8” teenage girl._

“I can’t reach them with the chair, but I guess I’m lucky this _quiznaking_ beanpole just showed up.” 

And then she scaled him. 

Literally scaled him like a fucking tree. 

Pidge made sure to dig her elbow into his gut on her way up, eliciting a satisfying “oof!” from him. She hauled herself up, up and—

“Yes! Got them!” She exclaimed triumphantly, snatching the pliers off the top shelf and holding them over her head like a trophy. 

And that’s the moment Lance realized: 

He _likes_ Pidge. 

It’s not so much of an earth shattering realization, but more of a “well, how about that?” He always thought his type was the tall, leggy, olive skin, white flowing hair kinda guy…and yet, here was his heart, thumping wildly in his chest for this little gremlin that just climbed him like a tree. 

When she finally looked at him her eyes widened. She hadn’t realized how close they were, but she didn’t move away either. Her lips parted nervously and his gaze dropped at the motion. 

Should he kiss her? 

It’s Pidge that makes the decision. Her eyelashes fluttered and she leaned close, the warmth of her small body pressing in to him makes his breath hitch. 

“Call me tiny again and I will _end_ you. _Me entiendes_?” Pidge murmured, her breath fanning against his ear.

He flushed. 

She patted his cheek cheekily and then hopped off of him, leaving a shell-shocked Lance to stumble out of the room in a daze. 

It wasn’t until he’d flopped back into his nice warm bed that his head exploded. 

First: because Pidge apparently knew Spanish??? 

Like, when did that happen? How had she kept that from him? 

He had a lot of questions for the youngest Paladin, but right now Lance was currently freaking out over the second thing:

_He liked Pidge._

Lately his thoughts were running in a thousand directions, but they always came back to _one_ person:

Pidge. 

Lance had always admired Pidge. She is scarily intelligent and above all, her drive to see her family safe is something that touched his heart. It was never a dull moment with the Green Paladin around. She was funny and smart mouthed and it amazed him how much he liked to be around her. Whether it was getting into trouble with Allura and Shiro, firing off a reprogramed drone into space with him and Hunk, or even just spending a night playing Killbot Phantasm I… Lance loved spending time with Pidge. 

With this startling realization, Lance rolled over and muffled a scream into his pillow. 

He was so fucked. 

…

“Morning Lance.” Hunk greeted, waving with spatula in hand the next morning. 

“Morning Hunk.” Lance fended off a yawn, shuffling towards the counter with a tired stretch.

“Man you look bright eyed and bushy tailed.” Hunk flipped one of the pancake-like concoctions that smelled awesome, but looked like a grey piece of rubber. “Didn’t get your eight hour beauty rest?” 

Lance groaned and plonked his head on the kitchen counter in response. 

“That bad huh?” Hunk patted him on the back sympathetically. “The pancakes are almost done. At least you’ll get a good breakfast before your April Fools Day madness. Can you help me bring them to the table?” 

Lance peeled his cheek off the counter and held the platter of pancakes for Hunk. The Yellow Paladin quickly finished up, flipping the remaining pancakes from the cooktop and onto the plate. 

Lance made sure to let Hunk enter the dining room first in the event that Pidge decided to rig the doorway with some kind of trap—but nothing went off. With a quick scan of the room, he quickly determined that Pidge hadn’t made it down to breakfast yet. Keith, Allura, Shiro and Coran already sat at the table but the Green Paladin was nowhere to be seen.

Lance relaxed and let out a relieved sigh. He placed the platter of pancakes down on the table before plopping down in his usual chair. 

Immediately he realized he made a _fatal_ mistake. 

The _loudest_ , most _horrific_ fart noise erupted from underneath of him, echoing into the deafening silence of the dining room. 

Shiro, Keith and Hunk stared at Lance in shock.

Allura and Coran dropped their cutlery with a clatter, mouths agape. 

“Whoa, _Lance_!” Hunk wrinkled his nose in disgust. 

“Gross.” Keith muttered, scooching his chair away none too subtly. 

Even Shiro tried to discreetly lean away from him. 

“It wasn’t me!” Lance yelped, his face an unhealthy shade of red. He shot out of his seat and looked desperately around.

“Come on man, just own up and excuse yourself.” Hunk rolled his eyes. 

“But no—it was—“ He finally found what he’d sat on and he trailed off.

It was almost invisible when you first looked at his chair. Only the strange, slight warp of the chair caught his eye and he reached down and grasped the offending item. It shimmered like the Green Lion did when it first came out of cloaking, but when Lance lifted it from the chair, the cloaking shorted and he was left holding… 

A whoopee cushion. 

A _quiznaking_ whoopee cushion. 

It wasn’t the classic red color, or exactly the same shape, but the item was unmistakable. He fell for the oldest trick in the book. 

The look on Lance’s face was priceless. So priceless, that Pidge chose that exact moment to snap a photo with her tablet so she could savor it forever.

“ _No._ ” He whispered, eyes widening comically. 

“YES.” Pidge cackled, and soon everyone except Lance was laughing.

“Oh man!” Hunk was crying from laughing too hard, “what a classic! Lance, she got you _good_ .” 

“W-where did you come from?! And when did you get a whoopee cushion?” He demanded, waving the offending item wildly.

“I was hiding in the vent.” Pidge jerked her thumb towards the side of the dining hall, where sure enough, the panel of the vent was laying on the floor, the screws littering the ground. She must have slithered out of there like the snake she was! 

“As for the whoopee cushion, I made it. Synthesized rubber and an embedded cloaking device similar to Green’s. Took me all night but it paid off.” She said smugly, adjusting her glasses. 

“You even helped me finish it without even realizing. Thanks for getting those pliers off the shelf for me.” The evil smirk on her face was so downright devious it was sinful. 

If he wasn’t so incredibly annoyed, Lance might have gotten down on one knee and asked her to marry him. A whoopee cushion? In _space_? She was a freaking genius! 

And he was so, so, _so_ screwed. 

Pidge had just taken the lead. If Lance’s prank didn’t go through later that very day, he’d have to concede defeat to this monster. 

For the second time that week, Lance spent his breakfast glaring at Pidge. 

…

 

_Pidge: 5 | Lance: 4_

 

…  
“Maybe you should give up while you still have your dignity.” Pidge mused loudly on the way to the training room.

Lance scoffed and rolled his eyes. 

The two had been kicked out of the breakfast hall as soon as they finished eating. Lance wouldn’t stop glaring and then Pidge started taunting him and it quickly devolved to trash talking from there. 

It was Hunk who picked both of them up by their collars as soon as they finished breakfast and deposited them outside of the dining hall with an exasperated sigh. Shiro’s call of: “don’t be late to training!” followed them out the door.

And so here they were, walking (or in Pidge’s case, swaggering) towards the training deck with Lance getting increasingly frustrated. 

“I think you should call me the King of April Fools Day from now on.” She said with mock thoughtfulness. 

“You haven’t won yet.” He rolled his eyes so hard they were in danger of rolling right out of his skull. 

“But when I _do_ win, I think I’ll ask Allura to hold my coronation. She can do that right? She’s a princess after all.” Pidge gloated.

Lance swatted at her in annoyance and accidentally fumbled his helmet—it tumbled to the floor and rolled right under Pidge’s foot. With a yelp, her leg shot out sideways and she flailed wildly. Her hand reached out to grasp at anything to keep her from falling—which happened to be Lance. 

With a grunt, they careened sideways. Lance bear hugged Pidge to his chest, correcting their imbalance and managing to keep them both upright—but smooshing her face into his chest at the same time.

“Are you okay Pidge?” He wheezed, looking down. 

Lance froze. 

For the second time within two days Pidge’s face is so close. 

Up close he can admire the telltale freckles that are sprinkled across the bridge of her nose—thanks to a recent visit to a planet with two suns. Her eyes are wide, the ghost of a grin on her mouth has faded and something flickers in her gaze. He can’t help but drop his gaze once more to her lips and Pidge’s breath hitches in anticipation. The noise twists his insides in a deliciously pleasant way. 

“What’s the matter Lance? Lion got your tongue—“ 

Lance has matured a lot since first finding the Blue Lion. One of his weakest qualities (and even he knew this) was to act rashly without a plan in place. He’d tried to work a lot on this, and had improved steadily in his place within Team Voltron. Although his first instinct was always to act and react without a plan, Lance prided himself in slowly fixing this habit and learning to think things through before acting. 

_Unfortunately_ for him, this was not one of those moments. 

“I like you.” The confession tumbled from his lips before he could stop it. 

It was Pidge’s turn to freeze.

“I-I mean—I’ve always thought you were a stand up guy at the garrison and then from there we became friends and you were cute but you didn’t seem to like me much but that’s okay.” 

Oh. My. _God_. It was like a plug had been pulled and he couldn’t stop. 

“And then it turns out you were a girl all this time and I thought you were still cute and I really admire how smart and driven you are—and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you lately. I guess I just realized last night when you climbed me like a tree how much I like you. Quiznak. I said it again.”

Pidge still hadn’t said a word; her mouth slightly agape in surprise. Lance just knew he was digging his own grave even deeper. 

Could he ever _stop_ talking? 

Time spluttered to a rude stop when the door to the training room whooshed _shut_. 

Pidge and Lance whipped around to see Shiro, Allura, Hunk, Keith and even Coran standing just inside of the training room. Judging by the comically identical deer in the headlights expressions, they’d definitely heard all of the conversation just now. 

Lance did the only thing he could think of. 

“APRIL FOOLS!” He blurted out desperately, his voice cracking in sheer panic. 

He regretted the words as soon as they left his lips. 

Pidge inhaled sharply. Lance turned to see the hurt flash across her features, and her eyes flickered through so many emotions it was dizzying to follow: hurt, anger, and worst of all, resignation. 

“Pidge wait—“

She didn't wait for whatever lame excuse he could come up with and shouldered past him. 

Lance felt like his brain was floating high above his body, disconnected and useless. He turned sluggishly and watched Pidge stop to say something to Shiro. She must have given some kind of excuse, because the Black Paladin nodded and let her slip by.

The silence she left behind was awful and stifling. 

Lance didn’t need the princess’s gaze burning into his skull to know that he just royally _fucked_ up.


	2. Despacito

Pidge managed to avoid Lance for three whole days before Keith caught her trying to scurry into a vent. 

The likelihood of accidentally running into Lance in the vents was, well… infinitely small. She was about to make her way from her entry point (the supply closet) to the Green Lion’s hangar when Keith happened to open the doors of the closet at the exact moment Pidge was hauling herself up. 

For a long moment Keith stared at Pidge, and Pidge stared at Keith. 

It wasn’t her _proudest_ moment, but it beat facing Lance. 

Without another word she tried to wriggle herself into the vent and escape—but the former Red Paladin was having none of it. 

She yelped in surprise when a hand fastened around her ankle, and with a strong pull Pidge tumbled onto the supply closet floor. She glared up at her unimpressed teammate. 

“So this is how you’ve been avoiding him.” Keith deadpanned. 

Pidge flushed. “I haven’t been avoiding Lance.” 

“I never said Lance.” His eyebrow rose and they stared at each other, unrelenting. Surprisingly, it was Keith who cracked first. With a deep sigh, he abandoned whatever he’d come into the closet for and slid down on the floor next to her. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” The words left his mouth as easily as though he were inviting a dentist to pull his teeth out. 

Holy Kaltenecker—if _Keith_ of all people was asking her if she needed to talk, Pidge knew it was bad. For a moment she was too stunned to say anything. 

“Look. You don't have to talk to me if you don’t want to.” Keith said seriously (almost hopefully). “Whatever is going on… I just want you to know that I’m here if you want to talk about what happened the other day. But I do think you should talk to Lance.” 

Pidge’s brain finally caught up to her. She swallowed thickly and nodded, not quite looking him in the eye. Despite how much her teammate really hated talking about feelings, here he was. Offering her an ear in case she needed one. She was touched.

“You’re right.” Pidge sighed, “but I don’t want to talk to you about it.” She smiled wryly. 

“Perfect. Because I’m not comfortable knowing about it.” Keith said, relieved.

“Great. Then let’s never talk about it.” 

“Let’s never talk about anything.” He added, helping Pidge up from the floor. 

“Done.” She agreed happily. 

They shook on it before going their separate ways. 

…

Lance wasn’t sure if he was swimming laps or just trying to drown himself in the Altean pool at this point. 

Hunk had invited him to swim a few laps, but then said he forgot something and left to go grab it. 

Normally swimming helped the Blue Paladin muddle through his thoughts, but no amount of laps would help this situation. 

For four long days he and Pidge had been at odds. It didn’t take him very long to realize she was avoiding being alone with him. After practice, when they normally lingered behind to joke around or to talk in their grossly sweaty suits, Pidge hit the showers immediately. She even blew off their once a week video game night to help Coran with a project. 

She was perfectly polite and civil, but there was something... _off_. He tried to apologize, but Pidge didn’t want to hear it. 

With a deep sigh, Lance hauled himself up the ladder of the pool. No amount of laps would help. 

Where the quiznak did Hunk disappear to?

Just as he was climbing out of the pool, the doors opened.

“I don’t understand why you need my help with the pump.” Pidge grumbled as she came into the room, looking sour and grumpy. “You could have just got Coran to—“ She trailed off when she realized they weren’t alone. 

Pidge’s eyes met Lance’s astonished gaze. 

He yelped in surprise and tripped. His arms flailed and he fell with a great big _SPLASH_ back into the pool. He quickly righted himself and popped back out of the water, wondering if he’d been seeing things, but Pidge was still there, currently whirled around on Hunk with betrayal in her eyes. 

“I _knew_ something was fishy.” She snapped, amber eyes blazing. Lance quickly descended down onto the flip side just as Pidge tried to make a getaway. It _stung_ how she didn’t want to be anywhere near him. 

Hunk caught Pidge by the scruff of her sweater, preventing her escape. 

“You just have to remember that I love and cherish you both… but you have to grow the hell up and talk to each other.” The Yellow Paladin instructed sternly. 

“All exits are sealed. Including the vents, Pidge. So don’t even think about it.” Hunk warned ominously, before the door to the pool slid shut. 

Lance stared after his friend in horror. How could Hunk do this to him? Pidge clearly didn’t want to talk to him yet. She was more likely to drown him in the pool.

“Did… did Hunk just swear?” Pidge asked, slack jawed in wonder, all thoughts of escaping seemingly forgotten. 

“Y-yeah.” Lance managed to find his voice, nodding along in disbelief. 

“I didn’t think he was capable of swearing.” Pidge mused. They both smiled, and those smiles immediately slid off their faces when they realized the gravity of the situation. 

There was a long, awkward stretch of silence. Pidge glanced down at her feet and then up at the pool and Lance wondered if she were looking for some kind of way to burrow out of here.

Clearly their teammates were more fed up with their awkwardness than he’d initially thought. Whatever the reason, this was his chance to make things right. To take his confession back and promise Pidge that they could just forget about it and stay the same way they used to be. 

“Pidge I—“ 

“Lance—“ 

They both started and stopped at the same time, staring at each other unsurely. Lance screwed his eyes shut, willing himself to have courage and just tell Pidge that it wasn’t a joke and apologize. It wasn’t just Voltron on the line here, it was his friendship with Pidge. Who cares if she didn’t like him back romantically? He’d get over it. 

He _wouldn’t_ lose her as a friend. 

“I’m sorry.” Lance blurted, “it was an accident. I was stupid and blurted it out and I panicked…I’m sorry.” 

He couldn't look at her, so he didn’t see her face fall. 

“An accident?” She repeated hesitantly. 

Lance could feel his heart breaking. She seemed to be taking his apology well, but it was clear that what had happened couldn't happen again. Pidge must not feel the same way about him. 

He nodded, not able to look at her.

She snorted bitterly. 

“So which one is it then? A joke or an accident? Did you mean what you said? Or not?” The sudden anger bleeding into her tone made him start. Lance glanced up to Pidge, her face was flushed and her gaze seared into him. He opened his mouth and closed it unsurely. 

“I wasn’t thinking.” The words tasted wrong even as they passed his lips. By the hurt look that flashed through her gaze, it wasn’t the right thing to say. 

“Apology accepted. Don’t worry about it. Great joke. Or accident. _Whatever_.” The tone of her voice implied anything _but_ the acceptance of his apology. Irritation swelled up before he could stop it. 

“Clearly you don’t accept my apology.” Lance snarked, the frustration and hurt of the last few days finally rearing its ugly head, “just say that you don’t. If you’re angry you need to grow a backbone and say it to my face.” 

Pidge whirled around on him, her eyes narrowed furiously. “Fine. Maybe I don't accept it because it’s a _stupid_ apology. First you said it was a joke. Then you say it was an accident. So which one is it? You either _meant_ what you said or you didn’t.” 

Lance opened his mouth and then snapped it shut.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He demanded instead of answering her particularly poignant question. They were both nearly yelling at this point, standing toe to toe. His neck was starting to ache from the angle he had to hold it at to meet Pidge’s furious glower. 

“You- _you_ sprung that confession on me out of nowhere! What was I supposed to say?” Pidge hissed, jabbing a finger into his bare chest. “You took me completely by surprise and then—you just took it all back! April Fools _Lance_. That’s what you said.”

“Well if you aren’t angry—then _what_ Pidge?” 

“I’m not angry.” Her voice was tight and controlled, but she avoided his gaze and it _hurt_.

“Then what.” He pushed her just a little more. They needed to fix this, but somehow they’d both let it spiral even more out of control. He couldn’t stand the feeling—like it was sand slipping through his fingers and he was desperately trying to stop it. 

“I was _embarrassed_ , okay?” She finally burst, miserable. 

There was an awful moment of silence.

…

Lance recoiled like she’d physically slapped him. 

“About my feelings?” He choked. 

Pidge’s eyes widened. 

Why was she so _bad_ with words? Why did she have to put her foot in her mouth when it came to Lance? She was _so_ tired of this. She _hated_ fighting with him. But this was unlike any disagreement they had previously. 

“No!” Pidge grabbed Lance’s arm before he could turn away from her. “Look at me. Lance.” She grasped his cheeks and forced him to look at her. She could see the same pain, hurt and frustration reflected in his eyes and all the anger drained out of her, leaving her exhausted and _sad_. 

Pidge was a genius with tech, but people on the other hand... She was terrible. This time was no different. Her friend had been deeply hurt by her actions simply because she couldn’t find the courage or the words to explain what was going on. To her, the distinction of whether Lance had accidentally blurted out his confession, or whether he’d meant it as a joke was incredibly important. And maybe it was time for him to know _why_.

“I’m sorry.” Pidge murmured softly, dropping her hand and stepping back. “I shouldn’t have avoided you. I wasn’t mad I just…” She let out a frustrated breath, “you hit a sore spot and I was too embarrassed to tell you.” 

“A sore spot?” Lance repeated, bewildered. 

“Yeah. I uh…” This was painful to say. It wasn’t even something she’d told Matt. It was far too humiliating and she was worried her brother would get into trouble defending her again at the time. But Lance deserved to know and moreover, she wanted to tell him. 

“I wasn’t very popular in middle school and high school. I got asked out a handful of times… on a dare… or as a _joke_.” She swallowed thickly and glanced away. It wasn’t something she particularly liked to talk about. It was embarrassing and had wounded her deeply at the time. As much as she liked to pretend that the bullying, the hurtful words, the hurtful actions hadn’t affected her—that she was above all of that and they couldn’t hurt her, there were some things that lingered. This was one of them. 

“I mean, I only fell for it once before I clued in. and I just wanted you to know why I reacted the way I did.” She still couldn’t bring herself to look at him. 

When Lance didn’t immediately say something, Pidge fell into her usual tendency of nervous rambling. 

“And it wasn’t a big deal I guess. I waited at the ice cream shop for three hours and then had to walk home in the rain, but the good news is that I got to try the new peanut butter flavor they got in and it was really good.” She swallowed thickly, trying to choke down her panic and shame, “anyways, good talk Lance—I’m sorry for avoiding you and it really was a good joke. Apology accepted. Bye!” 

Finally Pidge’s fight or flight response kicked into overdrive and she went to flee. 

Before she could even take a step Lance pounced. 

She lurched at the unexpected movement and let out a squawk, but somehow he managed to keep them upright. For the second time within a week her face was smooshed into his chest, though this time he wasn’t wearing anything except his swim trunks. Even once they regained their balance Lance didn’t let go. 

“It wasn’t a joke.” Lance said desperately. “ _I’m_ the joke.”

Pidge blinked uncomprehendingly, her head a little fuzzy from being so, so, so close to him. 

_PIDGE:/MIND/Thinking >_Does not compute._

“But you said… April Fools?” 

Lance pressed her a little tighter to his chest, groaning. The sensation made her heart stutter. Even fresh from the pool, Lance’s distinctively warm, honeyed scent persisted and she couldn't help but feel intoxicated by him.

“I know. The only fool here is me. I panicked. I didn't mean to tell you about how I felt like that because the guys were _right there_ and that kind of thing is so private. It was an accident. I wanted to tell you, but _not_ like that.” He took a deep, steadying breath. 

“I’m sorry I said April Fools. And I’m sorry I gave you such a bullshit apology. I was a coward.” 

“S-so…” Pidge trailed off, trying to keep her heart from exploding, “all that stuff you said?” 

Lance released her enough so that she could turn to face him. His face was beet red, but she was pretty sure hers matched. 

“I meant _every_ word.” He stressed gently, the intensity and honesty shining in his gaze made her head swim. 

“I…” Pidge’s voice failed her. “Even the part about me climbing you like a tree?” 

Lance nodded, his face growing somehow even redder. 

Pidge was stumped. Lance was so... Lance! She always admired how he wore his heart on his sleeve. He was so outgoing and such a people person… his good heart was what first attracted her to him and then everything in between had just doomed her. While Pidge had liked Lance for a while, she couldn’t ever see something happening between the two of them because of his huge crush on Allura. But if he said he meant every word, Pidge truly trusted him from the bottom of her heart.

Lance waited patiently for her to mull all this information over, having learned his lesson in jumping the gun. 

“I guess there’s really only one thing to say.” Pidge whispered seriously, her eyes never leaving his. 

“Are… are you an alien?” 

Confusion bled into Lance’s features. “What?” 

“Are you an alien?” Pidge repeated, unable to stop the grin from pulling at her lips, “because you are out of this world.” 

Lance blinked in astonishment, her words slowly filtering through his brain and then he laughed. It was a beautiful sound—warming her from the inside out. 

“You know Pidge, the last few days were tough.” He smiled warmly, “because the only thing I hate about space… is the one between us.” He waggled his eyebrows and Pidge snorted, though her cheeks were unmistakably pink. 

Her next action took them both by surprise.

Pidge hugged him. 

Lance stiffened at the unexpected action, but then immediately softened and wrapped his arms around her small frame. She pulled him a little tighter, glad that everything was okay again and let out a shuddering breath. She hated being at odds with the Blue Paladin, but it had taken her a few days to be able to put her thoughts into words. Pidge was great with tech, people… not so much. Tech was easy! But something about people had her stumped. Somehow she was comforted knowing that even Lance, who was such a people person and so kind, could also fudge up sometimes. 

“Thanks Lance.” Pidge sighed and she could feel him relax even more, as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. She didn’t let him go just yet, but he didn’t make a move to separate either, just holding her close. 

“I like you too.” She said honestly, “but what do we do from here?” Pidge doesn’t like the unknown. Going down this route is a complete mystery to her and it’s nerve wracking. Already she’s sweating like a lot, and it’s kind of a miracle she hasn’t slipped out of Lance’s arms like a slippery fish. 

“We don’t have to do anything.” Lance squeezed her a little closer before letting her go so he could look into her eyes. She’s flattered to see that his cheeks are just as pink as hers. 

“Nothing has to change until we’re ready.” 

As Paladins of Voltron, their occupation had already demanded so much from them. This— _her_ feelings, _Lance’s_ feelings—was not something they should or would rush. They already had to grow up so fast…as long as they understood how they felt about each other, everything else would work out.

“Okay.” Pidge agreed softly, taken aback by the depth of sincerity in his answer. 

“Except… One thing has to change.” 

He looked quizzical and slightly nervous, but nodded anyways. “What’s that?” 

“You have to call me _King_ from now on.” 

…

A few months later, Lance finally remembered the burning question he’d forgotten about in the whirlwind of their dangerous day jobs, and their blossoming relationship. Between fighting the Galra Empire, building the Coalition, stealing moments together and giving Pidge her first kiss (and many thereafter), it had been a busy couple of months. 

“Pidge, when did you learn Spanish?” Lance asked curiously when they were playing a round of Killbot Phantasm II on a rare day of peace. 

"Do you really want to know the answer?” Pidge asked without taking her eyes off the screen. 

Lance nodded confusedly. 

“ _Despacito_.” 

There was a long, uncomfortable moment where Lance’s mouth opened and closed and then opened again, but no words came out. It wasn’t until she pressed a quick, grinning kiss to his lips that Lance realized he’d been had. 

“That’s not funny.” He pouted, except he was grinning as he said it. 

Pidge smirked. 

“I learned just enough words to screw with you if you ever called me short. Or any variation of.” 

Lance snorted. That answer was positively _Pidge_. 

“But,” she began shyly, “I think I would like to learn. For real.” 

His heart flipped in his chest and not for the first time did Lance think how easy it would be to fall hopelessly in love with Pidge. (He was already most of the way there after all). 

“I think I know a good teacher who’d be willing to tutor you… Tall, swarthy, handsomest guy in the universe...” He waggled his eyebrows and Pidge looked thoughtful. 

“We’re both talking about Hunk here right? I know he took Spanish for three years.” Pidge teased. 

This time it was Lance who pressed a grinning kiss to her lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spot the Brooklyn Nine-Nine reference FTW! 
> 
> Also, who is ready to expire on Friday?!?!?!? Season 8 here we come!


End file.
